


Warcraft: Beyond Lordaeron

by CoolStev



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolStev/pseuds/CoolStev
Summary: Past the Eastern Kingdoms, and a long ways from Kalimdor, there sits a continent yet unexplored... Set just after Warcraft 3, Huddox Wingard and his men must ally themselves with strange orcs after they shipwreck on a new, strange land.





	Warcraft: Beyond Lordaeron

Waves from the gray, unfeeling sea crashed upon the side of the ship, rocking the great steel and oak vessel, rocking the souls inside like salt rocks in an empty bottle. The sky screamed in rage, great lightning bolts crashing into the sea, as if in defiance of Azeroth itself. “HOLD STEADY, MEN!” A loud, commanding voice called out, but it was no use, as men were flung from the sides of the ship. They were losing the rest of the fleet, and the compass was destroyed. They had no way of knowing just where they were going, and they were quickly losing men. 3 other ships were dragged through the turbulent sea, one smashing against rocks jutting out from the bottom of the ocean, the warship torn asunder and many men and women being flung into the waters below, fated to die from whatever manner of horrible monster lurks the murky depths of the great sea. “HOLD! HOLD!” He commanded once more, but he was drowned out by the crash of thunder as the sky cried out. It was hours before the sea would calm once more, but the remaining three ships were far from Lordaeron, and they had no way of knowing just where they were. “Dammit… Alright men, set sail for land, wherever we end up can’t possibly be worse than where we are.” The captain commanded, wiping seaweed and other manner of ocean trash from his armor. He made his way to his cabin, and pulled down all the maps he could to try and determine just wear they were. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. They were far from the Eastern Kingdoms, but there was no indication of where he was, or if they were even near Kalimdor.  
“Cap’ain Wingard, ser!” A sailor cried out as he burst into the cabin. “We found some'hing!”  
“Well? What is it?” Huddox said, standing from the map and looking down at the sailor.  
“I’'s land, chief! I’ ain'' like any we know, bu' i''s land alrigh'!” He said, stepping aside as Huddox moved past him, crouching under the doorway to look out at the new land. He was right, it was different. It resembled the Vile Reef, but it was somehow different.  
“Alright, men! Let’s get ashore and establish a base camp! We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but we’ll need to at least have someplace to lay our heads.” Huddox ordered. The men set the sails, and they slowly skidded onto the sandy beach, weighing anchor and dropping the ramp into shallow water. Lifeboats were loaded with supplies and the men began constructing the camp, canvas pulled over wooden frames, and stones set in circles for fires. It was not long before they had a full base camp set up from the beach to the beginning of the jungle. Alliance banners were hung around the camp, signalling their allegiance and warning those that would ally themselves with the orcish Horde. Spies were sent from the camp with the goal of charting the beach, which if one were to return, it would be known as Wingard Landing.  
“Wingard,” spoke a night elf sentinel “I certainly hope you plan to get us off this island. My people must return to Darnassus, and deal with the orcs in Warsong Gulch.”  
“That may be some time from now I am afraid. The ships have sustained major damage, so sailing out now would be foolish. For now, we will have to work together until we can repair the ships. Though, if we were to chart these lands, and perhaps establish some townships, the Alliance would be grateful.” Huddox suggested to the sentinel. She sighed, before shadow melding to leave the conversation, not bothering with what she perceived as foolish. Huddox shrugged, and returned to his tent, waiting for the spies to return with a map of the area. When they did, he found that the camp had been constructed on the southern tip of this land, and that much, much further back they could see that there was more than meets the eye. It went on for miles, and miles, until they eventually concluded that it was more than just an island, it was an entire continent. He set up a watch schedule, and soon the men went to sleep, but the watch soon went into high alert, as massive red orcs approached the camp. Huddox left his tent, coming out with his sword and shield to find that it was only a handful of orcs, and they came unarmed.  
“Throm-ka ragath’a. Bin mogm g’thazag cha. Ogg dogg, lok-narash.” The largest of the orcs said, riding upon a great direwolf.  
“Men, I do not think they mean us harm yet. Stow your weapons.” Huddox ordered.  
“Hm… They did say you would speak this strange tongue. Apologies, your coming was foretold, you must help us. You have no choice.” He said, and though his words seemed threatening, his tone was reassuring, implying he knew no other way to say it.  
“Help you? You are orcs.”  
“And you are humans.”  
“I mean that your kin wish us harm, how do we know you do not?”  
“I apologize for my kin, but we are not they. In many years, we have not seen our kin, cast for ancestor’s fel corruption. We know not what our kin do to hurt you, but we need your help. You and… Purple ones.” He said, pointing to the night elves.  
“That is Night Elf to you, orc.” One of the sentinels spoke. “We cannot help you, we need to return home.”  
“This land already has you. This land is cursed, from blood spilled by our ancestors. Storms take any who come near, but you braved the storms. You are chosen by fate. Arm your warriors, and come, such a camp will not be enough to brave the storm that will come." The orc said, and he waited for the allied races to arm themselves. As Huddox approached the orc, he stopped him. “Can I see your weapon?” He asked.  
“I suppose so.” Huddox said, drawing his blade. By the standards of the alliance, his blade was plain, simply another by the numbers tool of war. His shield was similarly just as plain, being angular and emblazoned upon it was stormwind insignia.  
“Your blade is… Very nice. We have seen no such craftsmanship before in this land.”  
“Aye,” spoke a dwarf carrying a blunderbuss “‘tis dwarven craftsmanship. We’re masters of the forge, and if ye got ‘em, we’d be happy ta use ‘em.”  
“I would treasure the opportunity.” He spoke, before finally leading them to his settlement.  
They moved deeper into the jungle, until they came to a settlement, where many orcs with red skin lived. Those that seemed to be civilians paid their respects to the largest orc, and Huddox began to wonder what was going on. “I er… Never told you my name, did I? I am Huddox Wingard, captain of the Alliance Navy.”  
“Ag’rall Bloodtusk, warchief of the Bloodtusk clan.” He said, and it all made sense now. Huddox looked around, taking note of the orcish architecture, before they arrived at the largest building. Inside were many warriors and peons, the latter of which knelt before Ag’rall. He spoke to them in Orcish, before turning to Huddox. “Do with them as you will. I understand that our… Buildings, may not suffice for your purposes, but you and your men may stay here until you’ve constructed all that you’ll need.” He said, before leaving to return to his family. Huddox turned to the peons and spoke.  
“Alright, we have some architects here which you shall work alongside. Follow their specifications to the letter.” Huddox said, a chorus of “zugg-zuggs” was the response. They grabbed their tools, and went to work. Huddox sat in the closest chair he could find, and his men slowly came in after the peons left. One of the spies, rather the spymaster herself, approaches the captain.  
"Do you really think we can trust them?" She asked, and though her face was hidden behind shadows and a mask, it wasn't has to tell that she was suspicious.  
"Can we trust them? I don't know. But do we have any choice? No."  
“Sir, with all due respect, we do have a choice.” One of the knights spoke. “After all, the sword--”  
“Is a last resort. For all we know, this isn’t their only settlement, and attacking now would result in our deaths. Right now, all we can hope for is to wake up in the morning and not be dead, and if you so much as raise your blade to one of them, our heads will be lobbed off.” He stood from his chair, towering over the knight as he approached. “And if you suggest such a course of action again, then I assure, your head *will* come off.” The knight gulped, visibly sweating from the approach of the hulking captain.  
“R-Right, sir. Apologies for speaking so out of turn. It will never happen again.” He backed off.  
“Now, does anybody else have any bright ideas, or are you all partial to living?” Huddox said, turning to the rest of the crew. He knew there would be dissenters, and he knew they would eventually make a mess of things, but he didn’t know who. “If you’re ready to act like men instead of violent apes, go help those peons. I know none of you want to live in orcish huts, so get moving!”


End file.
